#diviinitas

I never say no to coffee. Unless it consists of more milk than coffee. He likes his coffee with just one spoonful of sugar, and has no problems taking it black. Anything else and he doesn’t like it. If the detective tops her coffee with whipped cream, then that will be the real crime.

I assume you have questions and that this isn’t a friendly coffee run. He’s told her nothing but truths so far, but police have a way of getting you to tell lies—what they want to hear—just to get them off your back. D’Ablo would know. He’s been on the giving and receiving end of such questioning many times. If you’re going to try to get me to admit to the murder, I can already tell you that it won’t work.

Did this man seriously think Dawn was inviting him to grab a coffee and sit down somewhere and chat? “Coffee run” didn’t mean they were going to hang out; it meant they would stop by a coffee place on the way to the station, grab a window order, then get to their destination ASAP. Dawn had an extra chair by her desk that she bet was dying for a butt to warm it.

“So I know I have asked about how much fiction have made things that are real for real life vampires. Like with the stakes, garlic and the sun and all things like that.”

She was very concentrated on this question. Might be the slight buzz in her head that was making it feel like this was a very important question. The whiskey was an important factor for all her questions.

Having changed into something more comfortable, Micah returned to his hotel after one of his concerts. It had not been sold out, but the crowd had been magnificent and had carried him through the whole two hours he had been on stage. Afterwards, while fatigued, the adrenaline rushing through his veins forced him to stay awake for a few hours longer before bed.

His car dropped him off at the entrance, the singer walked to the hotel bar which remained open until the wee hours of the morning. He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, reached for it and forgot to look in front of him... bumping into the person walking together with him into the bar.  “Oh gosh, I’m terribly sorry. Are you alright?” Micah asked the other man, his phone back in his pocket before answering. “I should have watched where I was going.”

 “look, I know we’ve never been friends, or really anything of the sort. In fact, we we’re enemies. But I figured that we could at least try and mend some fences.” Vlad kicks the door to the house closed, he’d been avoiding D’Ablo since his trial.

It wasn’t that he felt scared, guaranteed immortality kinda did away with that fear of death. It was more like he wasn’t ever sure what to say.

But, given that everything was finally over, Vlad wanted to end it. He wanted some sort of peace of mind.

@diviinitas​ asked: “Did I ever tell you about my parents?”

rp-memes-atyourservice

Misc. sentence & symbol starters Send one for my muse’s reaction (sfw & nsfw):

Work has been scarce and he was worried. Why was no one coming to him anymore? Necromancy was a job, a way to pay the bills for him and his savings were being depleted when he was no longer saving anymore. He thought that even if another necromancer opened shop, there will still be plenty of business available but clearly, something is up. 

Brent was running his fingers through D’Ablo’s hair, his breathing slow and even as he was thinking of drifting to sleep in the next few minutes or so. He needed to rest his thoughts, or gain some distraction. He was grateful in a way, when D’Ablo made this inquiry.

alex bbq sauce, chicken, and pineapple is the worst thing i’ve ever laid eyes on

She reached out to the other vampire’s mind, psychically it was the equivalent of tapping someone on the shoulder. For a moment with his golden curls she had thought the stranger was her violin player, who she had heard play so long ago.